The Travellers by Antonia Fields
The Travellers
Antonia Fields
Copyright 2013 Antonia Fields
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, incidents, organisations and dialogue in this story are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities are coincidental.
Cover design by FionaJaydeMedia
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Chapter 1
Lily
This is the way he trains me. He creeps up behind me, surprises me and will admonish me if my surprise is genuine. “You’re still daydreaming Lily, allow your mind to empty and you will hear me coming”. Of course it isn’t just about emptying my mind. Does he think I have forgotten all those hours as a child closing my eyes and listening to the world around me? The same question “what else can you hear” and even when I thought I had it all covered, it came again “what else can you hear”. “There is nothing else out there” I’d reply. “Yes there is, pay more attention”.
Sometimes I’d make it up, tell him I can hear the ants scurrying to their nests, the worms moving beneath the earth, the rain storm on the other side of the planet. He would reply with an “hmphh”. Displeased? maybe, but something more. He knew something I didn’t, I felt that a lot with him. I would always put it down to him knowing about my future wise self and that one day I would come to recognise the sound of the insects scurrying in the dirt, sense the air when rain was coming. He knew. That’s why he pushed me so hard. It’s easy to be thankful and grateful for that now. Back then when all this first started, I just wanted to scream with frustration.
So it’s turned into a game now. He knows I can hear him. Untrained ears couldn’t. His footfalls are so light that it’s not actually the sound of his feet I’m listening for, rather the change in sounds around him. Very small, very quiet sounds. We have begun to play this game every morning, our way of greeting each other. I sit out on the river bank, close my eyes and listen to the world around me. I don’t know when he’s coming. There’s no point anticipating his arrival. I use to and he wouldn’t come. Anticipating wasn’t stilling my mind – I had missed the point of the exercise. So now I close my eyes and listen. It could be ten minutes, thirty minutes or over an hour. It doesn’t matter, because I’m not waiting. It’s a listening game. The fun part is knowing where his strike will come from. It changes every day and I don’t begin to know his mind. He’s crafty like that. Totally unreadable, never repeating any patterns. I guess that’s what makes him so formidable. I’m not quite there yet, not by a longshot. Sometimes I wonder if I will be able to reach the point where I don’t actually make a decision until I make it. I always imagine how peaceful one’s head must feel to live life like this.
It comes from my right side, just above my ear. I feel and hear the change in the air as his hand slices through. Funny, I would have laughed at myself a few years ago if I’d heard myself say this – hear the change in air indeed. And yet. I move my head. We are both successful and unsuccessful. I moved my head but not enough. He brushed my ear but it wasn’t his intended target. The student comes close. He smiles, pleased that I have finally stopped fighting him and allowing him to teach me, allowing myself to learn. Although secretly I always thought he enjoyed that side of me, the stubborn side, challenging him as much as he was challenging me. Does he miss it or is he happy that we have found balance between us? Clearly my mind hasn’t quite stilled. Cheeky devil on my left shoulder wonders if it is time to mix it up abit. After all, I don’t want him to become complacent now do I?
We’ve grown very fond of each other over the years. I don’t know who my real parents are and I could only wish that my real father is just like Axel. I guess if he was though, I’d be with him and not with Axel right now. I was left on the doorstep of the Library, just six months old, or there abouts. Axel was instructed by the Library curator to take me to the orphanage. He’s never told me why he didn’t. I know he tried to take me. I know he bundled me up and started the journey to this place. I know he brought me back to the Library. I just don’t know what happened in between. I understand there was a standoff when Axel arrived back with me. The Curator was not happy. I don’t even know how Axel convinced the Curator to allow me to stay. I do know it was a both of us or no one deal and stay we did. Axel lived in the cottage out the back of the Library acting as a library-keeper, keeping the building and everything in it safe and this was my new home.
A big giant library, filled with loads of books, folios and scrolls, mostly old stuff. It always smelled musty to be as a child, it was however a smell I began to find comfort in. I’m seventeen now. It’s the only life I’ve known. Axel taught me to read, write, calculate, draw, play the piano and still my mind. He taught me to use my mind and body to heal my mind and body and get me ready for a world that probably wasn’t ready for me. I have never ventured far from my little sanctuary, have never really felt the need. Even the Curator has grown accustomed to me. I say accustomed because I never knew until recently that I wasn’t very welcome here as a baby, I never knew that part of my story. The Curator has always been kind and in fact took charge of all my philosophy and history training. He enjoyed my stubbornness with my lessons growing up. “Keeps me on my philosophical toes” he would say in that accent that didn’t sound like he came from anywhere in particular.
It was the Curator’s idea to let me work and earn my keep in the library. The archivists needed help and I was old enough and could read enough to arrange books in a proper order, place them on a database and know where to find everything. Restoring, now that’s what I really wanted to do. The Curator thinks I’m still too young. Unbeknownst to him though Melody lets me do bits and pieces. Prepare a brush here, dry paper there. She said us girls have to stick together so, when no-one’s looking she teaches me what she can. Last week she let me restore the bottom part of an old manuscript that had been brought in. I was thrilled and terrified all at the same time. Melody was pleased with my work. Not so pleased that she told the Curator but pleased enough to want to continue teaching me this very delicate craft. I couldn’t be happier. My life was perfect and I could have continued living this way forever.
Someday in the future I’m told that it’s that very moment, when everything changes that you remember so clearly, so vividly in so many ways. It was something I was about to discover for myself.
Chapter 2
Wolf
Wolf was supposed to have more time. That’s what he had hoped for when he left her on the steps of the Library. He couldn’t believe that the Esperanzi had finally picked up his trail. What was it that had led them to him? He’d been so careful, always careful, always watching, covering his tracks. There was no time to wonder any more.
They were here, crawling through the streets of the city sniffing him out, dirty, disgusting creatures. He’d heard the shrill of the scout when it had picked up his trail. A coffee cup, a napkin? Is that what had blown his cover a caffeine and sugar hit? Something he would have to beat himself up for later when he lost these foul creatures once and for all. Although no-one ever lost the Esperanzi. Once they had picked up your trail it was only a matter of time.
No-one on the streets could see these creatures. They were genetically engineered hybrids. Wolf DNA for pack hunting abilities, hyena DNA for scavenging abilities, chimpanzee DNA for rudimentary problem solving abilities, a little bit of something not quite earth bound for manual dexterity and enough understanding to follow orders and a more than basic understanding of technology, and that was just the stuff we knew about. No-one on the streets could see them because of the cloaking device strapped to their forearm manipulating the ambient light around their bodies blendin
Noiselessly, effortlessly they move through the streets undetected except for puzzled looks on the faces of the passers-by, what was that? Someone must have walked into me….no-one knows. And that’s a good thing. Their appearance was the kind of stuff nightmares are made out of. At 4ft, their legs are built for strength and endurance, their short pointy ears are made for listening with a thick coat of short hair for warmth and protection against the elements, so there’s no real need for holing up and waiting out winter.
To be fair 4ft is their down on all four stature, they can also sit up on their hind legs, extending their height to nearly 6 ft. The depth of field in their eyes has been genetically altered so that tracking their victims from far away has been made easier and playing with their little wrist bands close up is also easy, all the better to find their victims with. The Esperanzi are the trackers used by Gentech. Ever hear about the conspiracy theories, you know the ones, where there are labs making smarter animals, faster humans, combinations of both. We all put that down to ridiculous, paranoid, anarchy fuelled hobgobble. Who knew it was all true. Something about telling the people the truth about what you do and of course it sounds so far-fetched no-one is going to believe. Mulder wasn’t kidding about the truth being out there. He should have started looking a little closer to home though.
While the human genome project was getting all the attention, Gentech was playing behind closed doors, answering questions like what happens when we switch this gene off and turn this one on. Of course they weren’t the first people to ask such a question and they won’t be the last. They were however among the first to come up with some answers. There were some hits and some gruesome, short lived misses. Persistent buggers though, they never gave up and item thirty seven on the catalogue, ladies and gentlemen we present to you, the Esperanzi. Cue applause.
Their job however, right now was to track Wolf. They’d been looking for him for the past two months. It would seem that a very, irritatingly small lapse in judgement has been the cause of their presence here today. Wolf still had some tricks up his sleeve though. At least enough to buy him some time to get his memory erased. When caught, his torture would be brutal. He would give up her location and they would find her. So right now he knew what he had to do. He’d been given a few tricks to use on his assignments. The game wasn’t all there’s, the game wasn’t all Gentechs. He wondered if taking her to the Palace would have been the wiser path. They would know what she was, but again isn’t that what he wanted to protect her from. No time for second guessing though. The Library was the safest place for her, he knew that to be true. Her anonymity was the only thing that could save her.
Right, bag of tricks now, sentimental self-loathing later. The Palace guards had given Wolf fake DNA. That’s how the Esperanzi tracked him, their fancy cloaking bands also contained a DNA mark tracker. DNA, Wolf thought to himself, something that is so easy to just leave all over the place. It was the saliva on the coffee cup or the paper towel. Damn, it had to be. What else could it have been? Careless, absolutely careless.
The Palace DNA had been slightly combined with Wolf’s DNA, just enough to set off the trackers, different enough to lose the trail for a while. Confuse the readings, confuse the trackers. This wasn’t the Esperanzi’s first ball game however. They had done this before. They’d figure it out sooner rather than later and once they did, oh boy were they going to be super pissed. For animals that were supposed to be complete drones they had big enough egos to get very mad when they were outsmarted, even for a short while.
DNA delivery was easy. It came in the form of an aerosol can. All Wolf had to do was spray it in areas while avoiding touching any surface with his bare hands. First he wore his gloves, next on the list, his head. He’d first shaved his head long ago, it was much easier to manage the risk of lost hair this way. He would burn his hair after every shave. He found that smell sickening. It reminded him of what he left behind and why he had to do this. Sadness mixed with loathing and contempt for the world he found himself in. His ever faithful beanie covered his head, scarf round his neck, enough to look unnoticeable on the street. Enough to cover his tracks (fingers crossed, he’d already screwed up once).
He spent the next three hours leaving four trails in the city before dumping the spray can in a very smelly and gooey trash bin. The Palace guards would have chewed him out for doing this, leaving evidence behind, allowing the Esperanzi to uncover the ruse. What did they know anyway? They hardly ever left the Palace. The Esperanzi would find him, not if, when. So he wanted to give them a big screw you, tricked you, haha. It made him feel better, like he still had control over what was about to happen.
The Esperanzi never work alone they will always faithfully stay with their packs following every lead a single lead at a time. Each trail Wolf left became longer and he set the order, there was no way they were going to find that spray can first. He probably bought himself another one to two days three tops before they caught up with him. He knew now that no matter how careful he was, he was going to track DNA somewhere. Geez, a coffee cup! He was tired of the chase and he was ready to have this out once and for all. Three days tops was enough time to get to Magic Man. He’d already been in contact. Magic Man was ready and waiting all Wolf had to do was turn up.
Chapter 3
Lily
The mirror never lies, the face looking back at me is tired, weary and a little fed up. It’s been three nights of nightmares, waking up screaming after each one, and me, a peaceful sleeper. The first night I tried everything I knew to get back to sleep. Breathe deeply, relax muscles, empty mind. I think I was at it for an hour the first night and nothing. I couldn’t let go of the images, the smells, the attack. Yeh, the mirror tells me exactly how much these nightmares are affecting me. Even my eyes look darker, weird my eyes, this funny goldy, brown colour. I’m the only one that has them here in the Library and the only answer I get from Axel is genetics. “One of your parents must have had that colour”. They’re darker right now, brown with only the goldy coloured ring on the outside of my iris. Yep, even my eyes hate the nightmares.
I’ve never seen creatures like that before. Determined, angry, downright scary that’s what comes to mind when I think of them now. I can still see their image behind my eyes. What are they anyway? They don’t look like any one creature, more like a mix of animals. It can’t be any type of food giving me nightmares, I don’t eat before sleep. In fact I don’t eat after dinner, so, not food, not drink, subconscious? My subconscious is creating scary mixed animal creatures to tell me what?
Funnily enough though, as scary as these creatures are it’s the man in my dreams that leaves the greatest impression. He meets the creatures head on. He didn’t run. I yelled at him to run. Told him they were coming but he didn’t hear me. I wasn’t there. He couldn’t see me, hear me. He just stood there waiting for them. He had a gun in his hand and I could tell it would be no defence against these creatures. I could tell he knew it too. He wasn’t trying to defend himself, he was just trying to be brave, unafraid. The gun gave him courage. I kept yelling at him but he couldn’t hear me. I started crying in the dream, yelling, begging him to run. It was no use.
The first creature came from his left, he wasn’t expecting that. He was surprised but also had good reflexes. He used the hand holding the gun and managed to make contact with the side of the creature’s neck. It yelped. Like a dog.
How can that be? It doesn’t look like a dog. Not really. That sound, that sounded like a dog yelping in pain.
It fell away. Not before the next creature jumped though, this one knocked him off balance. The creature didn’t stop. It ran through him, as if knocking him off balance is
How can it do that? It’s some kind of animal. It can’t pin someone’s arms. Yet it’s pinning his arms.
Their heads are level now and they’re looking into each other’s eyes. The creatures aren’t trying to kill this man. The other scary looking animals- are they animals, have surrounded them both. There is no way this man can escape. I don’t know if he’s going to be a prisoner or dead. I start crying again, yelling, feeling helpless “leave him alone” I scream. That’s when he turns his face towards me. He looks straight at me. No wavering. It’s like he knew I was there all along. He could hear me yell. He could hear me cry. He was ignoring me until now. The look in his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes reads fear, pain, terror and with that look, he turns to me and screams “Run”. I don’t even have a second to register what he is saying because as he yells this the creature also turns its face to look at me. Stares at me with those goldy brown eyes, is it smiling?
It’s definitely smiling, wait, its eyes. They’re the same colour as mine. That’s when I wake screaming. I stare at my eyes in the mirror and it’s like looking at the eyes of the creature. So is that supposed to be me? Am I supposed to see myself in it?
I haven’t told anyone yet. There’s no point. I’ll just be told to explore inside and ask myself questions. How does seeing the creature make you feel? What comes to mind when you think it’s you? Blah blah blah. I’m not in the mood for soul searching. I’m in the mood for sleep but I won’t do it. Not until tonight anyway. I can’t have that dream again just now. So I have an ohh so hot shower instead which helps me climb man’s evolutionary ladder a couple of steps. Maisie’s hot buns should get me the rest of the way. The Library complex is quite, Maisie and I are the only one’s up.